


Brown Paper Packages

by smithandbarrowman



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Advent, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Eventual Smut, F/M, Secret Santa, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 18,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27810325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithandbarrowman/pseuds/smithandbarrowman
Summary: A series of gifts from a stranger in the lead up to Christmas has Lucius Malfoy intrigued.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy
Comments: 582
Kudos: 470





	1. December 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written as an Advent surprise for the members of the Strictly Lumione Facebook group. One Drabble a day until Christmas. 
> 
> Thanks to PotionChemist, coyg_81, CuppaTea90, and TriDogMom for their help and encouragement with this xx

* * *

**  
DECEMBER 1**

* * *

A tawny owl landed on the sill, a small box attached to its leg. It tapped on the glass and stared in at me, wearing an unnerving expression that made me pause to wonder what it was delivering. 

I crossed the room and slowly opened the window. The owl shifted and allowed me to remove the package, hooting softly and allaying my concerns. I gave it a treat and sent it on its way, watching until it had disappeared over the houses across the lake. 

Returning to my desk, I placed the small box in front of me. It was wrapped simply in brown paper and had no indication as to whom it was from. 

I opened it cautiously — it had been ten years since the end of the war, but I was still wary of unexpected mail — and was surprised to find a small bottle inside the brown box. Lifting it, I smirked at the label; The Remnant Whiskey Company, Tasmania. “The Scoundrel.” 

I looked for a card, only finding a small roll of parchment. Unfurling it, I smirked again. 

_A scoundrel for a scoundrel. Enjoy xx_

No name. No signature. No indication as to who had sent it. 

I smiled, assuming my son was having some kind of lend of me; he’d recently been in Australia on business. 

Placing the small bottle on the desk, I decided I wouldn’t drink it yet. He was due to visit in the coming days and I wanted to gauge his reaction. He had become quite the joker since the end of the war, an aspect of him which I found rather amusing. 

I made a mental note to source a gin maker with an equally amusing title, and returned to the papers on my desk. 

* * *


	2. December 2

* * *

**DECEMBER 2**

* * *

I awoke from a pleasant slumber to the sound of quiet rustling. Lifting my head, I saw Rupert the house-elf placing a package on the dresser. 

“Rupert is sorry he be waking the Master,” the little elf said with a wince and moved to start banging his head on the dresser. 

“No, Rupert. I was awake already,” I assured him and sat up. “What is it that you’ve brought?”

“Rupert brings a gift for the Master.” His ears twitched. “The owl brings it to the Manor before the Master is awake.”

“Thank you. I’ll be down for breakfast shortly,” I said with a nod and the elf disappeared. 

The package was wrapped once more in brown paper, although this time it was tied with string. Another small roll of parchment was attached, but I set it aside while I opened the package. I was taken aback when the contents were revealed. 

An ancient volume of Turkic runes. A book I had been searching for. 

Running my fingers over the leather-bound cover, I was speechless. This was one of only five known volumes in existence; I had been searching fruitlessly for it for years. 

I turned it over in my hands, tracing the script that had been carved into the leather with my fingers. The script was simple to scribe, but difficult to decipher, and it had been one of my greatest desires to learn the ancient alphabet. 

I doubted my son would have taken the time and effort to find it for me, so I was puzzled as to who would have sent it and why. And reading the attached parchment hadn’t helped. 

_ May the contents of this volume be everything you were searching for. Enjoy xx  _

Frowning, I lifted the book again. 

Who would have gone to such great lengths to find this and not reveal who they were? 


	3. December 3

* * *

**DECEMBER 3**

* * *

Despite it being winter, the midday sun was warm as it poured through the glass of the solarium, heating the small room that had been added on to the Manor at Narcissa’s insistence when Draco was small. They had enjoyed the room together, the glass walls and ceiling allowing the outside to seem like it was actually in the room. 

And now that Narcissa no longer resided in the Manor, the room had become one of my favourites. 

“Father?”

I glanced up, delighted to see he had brought Scorpius with him. “Draco.” 

My two-year-old grandson toddled over to me, his smile bright and cheerful. I lifted him onto my lap, and Draco sat opposite us.

“This was on the hearth when we stepped out of the Floo.” He placed a brown paper wrapped box on the low table between us. “I assume it’s for you.”

“You  _ assume _ it’s for me?” 

“ _ Ah _ , yeah.” 

“Draco, really?” I chuckled. “This is the third gift in three days. I’m not sure what you’re up to, but you can stop.”

He frowned in confusion at the box on the table. “This isn’t from me, Father. And I definitely didn’t send you anything else. Katie and I haven’t even begun our Christmas shopping.”

“The Scoundrel whiskey and the Turkic runes?” My own frown creased my brow. “You know nothing about them?”

“ _Scoundrel_ whiskey?”

I picked up my wand and  _ Accio’d _ the small bottle from the den. Draco plucked it out of the air and Scorpius clapped his little hands, squealing in delight. 

“Oh, this is brilliant!” Draco laughed. “Absolutely perfect for you.”

“I’m glad you agree.” I placed my squirming grandson on the floor, and he immediately went to Draco to see what he had. 

“Who sent it?” 

“That’s the thing, I’ve no idea. The note said simply to enjoy. As did the note with the book.”

“So, you have a secret Santa.” He smirked. “How very interesting. What’s in this one?”

I reached across and pulled the box towards me. It was wrapped in the same brown paper as the other two, no frills or bows, just basic wrapping that had belied the gifts it covered. I pulled the string holding it together and the paper fell away. I gasped, as did Draco. 

It was an Italian marble chess set. Hand carved and expensive. 

“Wasn’t that the set you were talking about when you returned from Italy last month?”

“It is,” I replied, hardly able to believe that it was in front of me. 

“Wow,” Draco said and began to chuckle. “Whoever this secret Santa is, they’re loaded.”


	4. December 4

* * *

**DECEMBER 4**

* * *

The chess set gleamed in the early-morning light shining in through the windows. It was beautifully intricate; _Carrara_ marble making up the white pieces, _Nero Portoro_ marble making up the black pieces. 

_ Light and dark. Opposing teams. This time, however, it’s only a game. Enjoy xx  _

The parchment was cryptic, and I was still none the wiser as to who sent it. Draco had been adamant it wasn't him, and the sincerity in his face was enough for me to believe him. 

Of course, I had to assume it was the same person sending the gifts. The wrapping was identical, as was the handwriting on the parchment, but the simple signature of  _ enjoy _ with two crosses was unknown from anyone I knew. 

And I was both curious and concerned as to how someone who wasn’t my son knew me so well. 

A snowy owl landed outside the window as I was admiring the chess pieces. Another small box was attached to it, and I found myself eager to know what it held. 

After removing the box, I sent the owl on its way then closed the window against the cold. The box was small enough to fit in my palm, and wrapped in the familiar brown paper. I unfurled the scroll and smiled at the message; _A symbol of_ _wealth and status, protection from fire. And that of your birth. Enjoy xx_

A small, velvet box was hidden behind the paper, and once more my breath caught when I opened it. Cufflinks. Platinum cufflinks with pearl inserts and the letters L and M etched in the gemstone. They were exquisite, and whomever had sent them clearly knew me better than I had presumed. 

Pearl was my birthstone. 


	5. December 5

* * *

**DECEMBER 5**

* * *

The four little gifts were set on the wide window seat in my den, lined up in the order they had arrived. I had been staring at them all morning, trying to make sense of them. 

They didn’t seem linked in any particular way, other than they were all things I either wanted or pertained to my person. I supposed I could drink the whiskey while reading the book or playing chess. But the cufflinks were more fitting for a formal affair. 

I picked up each one in turn, trying to figure out the link, but I still came up empty. 

Four confusing gifts from an unknown source. 

I sighed. I had work to do. Bending my brain to try to figure out what this all meant was not constructive. 

Sitting at my desk, I ignored the line-up on the window seat. The investment portfolio Draco and Katie were starting for Scorpius needed my attention. They had put a lot of thought into what they wanted for his future, and I should have been doing the same. I sifted through the papers, my attention finally where it should be, and forgot all about the anonymous gifts. 

The heavy thump of an owl landing on the sill outside startled me; a glance at the clock told me I had been oblivious to everything for almost two hours. I hurried to the window — my eager curiosity that of a small child — and discovered another small package. 

The simple brown wrapping stirred something inside me. Excitement? I wasn’t sure, but it was a feeling that had been long missing in my life. 

I quickly opened the box and was met with an elegant silk neck tie, adorned with what looked like dragon scales, and the note attached made me smile once more. 

_ The fire inside you gave life to a dragon. Enjoy xx  _

I pulled the tie from the box and instantly knew it was Japanese silk of the finest quality. Quality that wasn’t cheap. 

Walking over to the window seat, I took in the line of gifts. 

Draco was correct; my secret Santa was indeed loaded.


	6. December 6

* * *

**DECEMBER 6**

* * *

  
  


I woke to find the Manor grounds blanketed in snow. The pristine white was untouched; the peacocks had been locked in the aviary and the horses in the stables. The quiet that snow always brought settled around me, and the Manor seemed to sigh in peace.

I slipped into a pair of sleep pants and a long-sleeved undershirt — sleeping naked had become the norm in my single life — then into my thick robe and slippers, deciding that dressing for breakfast was unnecessary since I dined alone — and had done for some time. The formalities that were once expected now seemed highly idiotic. Narcissa’s insistence on proper etiquette and manners lent no opportunity to simply relax and enjoy breakfast.

It had felt odd the first time I made my way through the Manor halls dressed only as I was now. Even Rupert had been shocked at my attire, the little elf assuming he had erred and punished himself. I had righted him, of course, but it had taken the tiny creature as long as it had for me to become accustomed to my casual breakfast attire. 

The dining table was set, awaiting my arrival, and as I did most mornings, I shook my head at the absurdity of it. The table was large enough for twenty people, and there was only one place set. 

But my eyes went directly to the brown paper package beside the setting. 

“Rupert finds this by the Floo, Master Lucius,” my house-elf explained. “Is Master Lucius wishing it away?”

“No, Rupert,” I said hastily. “The gift was somewhat expected.”

The elf nodded, disappearing just as my breakfast appeared on the plates. But I took no notice; my entire being was focused on the square box on the table. 

The note was written in the same handwriting I had become enamoured with. 

_ A rare soul deserves the rarest of gifts. Enjoy xx  _

My expectations were reasonably high, the previous gifts setting the tone for what was possibly hidden beneath the wrapper.

But nothing could have prepared me for what I received.

A dozen Elven cigars. Rarer than a philosopher’s stone, each one was hand rolled and took six months to make. And the Lythari Elves who made them were even rarer. My benefactor had gone to great lengths to procure such a rare gift. 

Gently picking up one cigar, I lifted it to my nose and inhaled deeply; the scent was heavenly.

I smiled to myself. I wasn’t a smoker, but I knew I would definitely enjoy these. 


	7. December 7

* * *

**DECEMBER 7**

* * *

  
  


“Pa! Pa!” Scorpius cried as I stepped out of the Floo. He crashed into my legs, his little arms raising in the air, waiting for me to lift him. 

I scooped him up and hugged him tightly, feeling that same wistful ache I always did; the guilt of not having done this with my own son when he was small. 

“Father, we’re glad you’re here,” Draco greeted me with a smile. “He’s been waiting since he woke from his nap.”

“Well, I’m equally as pleased to see him.” I followed him into the sitting room, greeting my exhausted looking daughter-in-law. “I hope he’s not tiring you out, Katie.”

She placed her hand on her ever-expanding belly and smiled. “Only when he knows his  _ Pa _ is visiting.”

Draco had broken with centuries of Malfoy tradition, and their second child would be born in just a few months. And it pleased me to no end that the first female in Malfoy history would be born to my son. 

“Did you bring me one of those cigars?” Draco asked with a smirk. He knew full well they had been hidden away in the secret Manor vaults, and the only way he would find them would be upon my death. 

“I’ve not enjoyed one myself yet,” I told him. “And I highly doubt you’ll have the pleasure either.”

“Not even on the long-awaited birth of the first Malfoy female in history?”

I glanced at Katie, who was chuckling. 

“I’m sorry, but no. I doubt I’ll ever find more of them, so I will enjoy each one at my leisure.”

Poppy, Narcissa’s elf, appeared with a tray of drinks. The little creature had been completely lost at my ex-wife’s departure, so Draco and Katie had offered her a place in their home. She had joyfully accepted and was content with her new family. 

“Dinners be ready when the Masters and Mistresses be ready.”

“Pop! Pop!” Scorpius clapped his hands and took a lidded cup with a straw when the adoring elf handed it to him. 

Then her ears twitched and she handed me a brown box.

“Gifts for Master Lucius.”

I thanked her and she disappeared with a pop. I looked at both Draco and Katie, and their expressions reflected my own surprise. 

“It must have just arrived,” Katie said. “It definitely hasn’t been here all day.”

I placed my glass on the side table and read the note.

_ To the stars and beyond. Enjoy xx  _

I frowned, then opened the box. 

“Oh, that’s gorgeous!” Katie exclaimed. 

And she was right.

It was just a simple crystal ball, but inside it held a rotating solar system and three important constellations: the dragon, the scorpion, and the harp.

I glanced up at my family; Draco and Scorpius made sense, but how did this person know about Katie and my un-born granddaughter,  _ Harper _ ? 


	8. December 8

* * *

**DECEMBER 8**

* * *

  
  


I’d been pacing and fidgeting since I’d woken up. Draco and Katie had assured me I had nothing to worry about. Katie called the baby Harper all the time, so it wasn’t huge news that someone knew their daughter’s name. 

But I was still concerned. 

A stranger was sending me gifts that perfectly suited me, and now included references to my family. I had tried to use charms that would indicate where these gifts were coming from, but the counter-charms were too strong and hid the giver’s identity. 

The anticipation and eagerness I had been feeling had lessened, replaced with anxiety and trepidation. I hated not knowing, but I had no idea who this person was and how they knew me so well. 

I had kept my life quiet since the war ended, staying low and keeping to myself. I deserved the judgement, I supposed. I _had_ chosen the wrong side, had chosen it for longer than I should have, but I had served my sentence and now lived simply. 

But someone had still managed to figure me out. 

I wracked my brain, picturing everyone I still had ties to, even the flimsiest bit of contact with, but no one came to mind. My former acquaintances wouldn’t dare come near me, and I’d made no new contacts since the war ended, so the puzzling nature of who this person could be was perplexing. 

And when an owl arrived on the sill once more, I was hesitant to open the window. 

I stared at it through the glass and it stared right back. And I knew it would sit there until I accepted the package it carried. Sighing, I finally opened the window. It flew off as soon as I untied the box, leaving me to stare after it, and nervously avoid opening the latest gift. 

I carried it to my desk like it would explode, carefully placing it on the centre of the mahogany. I had lived with the devil under my roof, but even then I wasn’t as terrified as I was now. 

I started on the parchment note, and it was as cryptic as the others. 

_Strength. Knowledge. Wisdom. Trust. The tree gives to those who are open to receiving. Enjoy xx_

Unwrapping the now familiar brown paper, another small box was revealed. Lifting the lid, I was greeted with a pocket watch, one that was beautifully detailed with the tree of life. 

And the symbolism couldn’t be clearer. 

I’d been given a second chance, one so few were offered. 

And I shouldn’t waste it. 


	9. December 9

* * *

**DECEMBER 9**

* * *

  
  


The last twenty-four hours had been a myriad of emotions. Eager and excited. Nervous and anxious. And now I felt a calmness like I’d never known.

The pocket watch had been a revelation. The tree of life. Second chances. Receiving.

I had decided to simply accept these gifts, and even if it turned out to be Draco and Katie’s doing, I would enjoy the gesture. They had been concerned after Narcissa’s departure and our subsequent divorce a year later. My sentence after the war had been nothing compared with the heartbreak she had put me through. But a year on from my divorce, I had finally become settled, and now another year later, I was entertaining the thought that since my gift-giver was someone who appeared to know me so well, I might be more than interested in them. 

It was a thought I hadn’t yet entertained. And it had taken an unknown entity to make me realise I wasn’t as unavailable as I made myself believe. 

The Floo sounded in the parlour, and I waited for the excited footsteps of my grandson. And I waited. And waited. 

Frowning, I rose from the armchair and and made my way to the Floo, curious as to who, or what, had accessed it. Draco, Katie and Scorpius were the only people the wards recognised, and those wards were set to banish anyone else. So I was startled to find the latest brown box on the hearth. 

_Floo post,_ I thought and grinned. My stranger certainly had some magical abilities. It took talent to send an inanimate object via Floo.

I bent to pick up the box; it was larger and much heavier then the preceding gifts, and my curiosity was piqued even further. I returned to my den — the previous gifts were still lined up along the window seat — and opened the package. A crystal spirit decanter and two matching balloon glasses, and I recognised the craftsmanship immediately. Crystal mined and shaped by Germanic mountain dwarves, and sold only to the most serious of collectors. 

The extravagance stumped me once more. This person had spent thousands already, and I suspected — since I had been receiving gifts each day — this pattern would continue until Christmas. I picked up the note and was mystified at its meaning; _So you’ll never have to drink alone. Enjoy xx_

__


	10. December 10

* * *

**DECEMBER 10**

* * *

  
  


I was acutely aware of my surroundings as I made my way along the main street of Diagon Alley. It was a rare foray into the busy street, but since I had business to attend at Gringotts, it was unavoidable. 

The open stares and whispers hardly registered with me; I was more than accustomed to my presence causing a stir. Instead, my focus was on who might have been following me — or watching me. However, I recognised very few faces.

No one stood out, no one seemed overly interested in what I was doing, only that I was there. And I certainly didn’t  _ feel _ anyone watching me. 

I glanced over my shoulder as I opened the doors to the bank, and chuckled to myself. I realised my life had changed, but my paranoia had not.

I was greeted in the lobby by Furnok, the goblin who had been assisting me setting up Scorpius’ investments, and ushered me into his office. 

A vault was opened in my grandson's name, and preparations were made for another in my granddaughter’s upon her arrival. Copies of the paperwork were owled to Draco and Katie, and I hoped they would be pleased with my investment choices.

As I rose to leave, Furnok cleared his throat. 

“It is most unusual, Mr Malfoy, that Gringotts has been used as a post office.” He placed a box in front of me. “We ask that it not occur again.”

“My apologies, Furnok.” I bowed my head, “I wasn’t expecting anything, and I’ve no idea why it would be sent here.” 

I took the box as I left his office, and headed for the closest Floo. My paranoia had been correct; my stranger had to have been following me. 

Unwrapping the brown paper, the box held what looked like a small horse. But on closer inspection, I saw it was a replica of the Trojan Horse. Once more the piece was intricate and elegant, carved by a master’s hand.  I chuckled at the note —  _ Not all surprises are a danger. Enjoy xx  _ — and wondered just how my stranger would reveal themself to me.


	11. December 11

* * *

**DECEMBER 11**

* * *

Another heavy snowfall stole any possible plans I might have considered, and I knew my day would be spent reading in the library. The coming weekend would be quiet in any case. My usual Saturday afternoon plans with my grandson had changed — Draco was whisking Katie away for two days and Scorpius was staying with Katie’s parents — so I had three days of nothingness to enjoy. 

As I made my way along the hallway towards the library, I was suddenly struck by how empty the Manor was now. When Narcissa, Draco and I all lived here, it was large — much larger than what we truly needed. But now that I was here alone, it was even more so. And if I was being honest, I lived mostly in only four rooms — my bedroom, my den, the library, and the solarium. Even when Draco and Katie visited, we usually met in the den. It was comfortable and much less stuffy than the formal sitting room. And since it overlooked the gardens, Scorpius could watch the peacocks from the windows. 

And I had to admit, I rather enjoyed visiting their home. Being a Malfoy, Draco  _ had _ insisted on an affluent area in London, and their townhouse was larger than it looked, but small enough that they didn’t have to use a house-elf to locate each other. 

Downsizing was definitely something to consider. 

I finally reached the library, and Rupert had already made tea, which was staying warm under a stasis charm. 

And, of course, another brown box was sitting on the small table beside it. 

I released the charm and sipped my tea before opening the long, thin box. And yet again, I was stunned. A beautiful teal Occamy feather quill was encased inside. Purple Occamy wing feathers were common, falling off the creatures regularly like they would a bird. But the teal head feathers were almost never shed, making this another  _ very _ rare and expensive gift. 

_ The right words are the most simple ones. Find them. Write them. Enjoy xx _

My days prior to the war had been spent writing long-winded letters to the various Ministry departments I thought could further my position. 

And clearly my stranger knew it. 


	12. December 12

* * *

**DECEMBER 12**

* * *

Torrents of rain had replaced the snowfalls, and the abundance of water from the melted snow and the rain had essentially transformed the Manor gardens into a swamp. But my love of rainstorms had me sitting in the Solarium, enjoying the sounds of the heavy rain. 

And the streams of water running down the glass walls distorted the view, the colours outside blending and blurring, and giving me an image not unlike a Monet painting. 

The Floo sounded across the hall, but I chose to ignore it. As eager as I was to discover what my latest gift was, I wouldn’t let myself be bound to the anticipation. 

Picking up the  _ Daily Prophet _ , I began reading. There was little news of interest to me — the paper had lost its reputation during the war and the reporting hadn’t improved since — but I read through the latest updates on the Ministry’s mandates on Centaurs and the new act concerning house-elves. I turned the page and read through the Quidditch scores. Uganda beating Poland in the World Cup quarterfinal 310 to 40. It was a major upset; the Polish team hadn’t lost a match in two years. 

“Master Lucius?” Rupert appeared holding the brown box I suspected had come through the Floo. “Another gifts having arrived.”

“Thank you. Rupert. I’ll get to it once I’m finished with the newspaper.” 

He nodded and placed the box on the table, asking if I required anything before disappearing to make tea. 

This box was slightly different to the others. Still wrapped in brown paper, it was adorned with a gold ribbon printed with the name  _ deLafee. _

The Swiss chocolate truffles were of the highest quality. Coated in edible gold leaf, one truffle alone cost 150 Galleons. And having purchased them several times for my ex-wife, I knew there were two in this box. 

I reached forward and retrieved the parchment note, my heart stuttering at the words.

_ The alluring taste of… chocolate on your tongue. Enjoy xx _

_ _


	13. December 13

* * *

**  
DECEMBER 13**

* * *

  
  


I woke with a start, breathing hard and covered in sweat, the images of the dream I’d had still vivid in my mind.

Whispered words.  
Warm breath.  
Smooth skin.   
Melted chocolate sliding down my chest. 

I glanced down; my hand was wrapped around my cock and my stomach was a mess. 

_Fucking hell!_

I’d not had a wet dream since puberty. 

But those words, _alluring taste… on your tongue._ They had stirred my insides and it wasn’t chocolate that I wanted on my tongue. 

I called for Rupert, asking for my breakfast to be served in the den, then showered quickly, keeping the water cool, and — still disgusted with myself — cleaned the mess I’d made. Dressing simply in trousers and a shirt, I was determined to forget my dream by burying myself in work. 

But as I stepped through the door, the wooden box on my desk brought the images flooding back.

_There’s only one taste more decadent… Enjoy xx_

I slid the lid open and shouldn’t have been shocked considering the gifts I had already received. But my breath was taken away. 

_Champagne Krug Clos d'Ambonnay 1995._ A four thousand Galleon bottle of wine. And the two champagne flutes that accompany it were of the finest Austrian crystal. 

Two balloon glasses.  
Two truffles.  
Two champagne flutes. 

My stranger was building to something and whatever it was, it definitely involved the two of us.


	14. December 14

* * *

**DECEMBER 14**

* * *

  
  


The heavy rain of the previous day had slowed to a miserable drizzle, turning my mood sour. The blurred colours that had been so vibrant in the downpour were now grey and glum. And the chill in the Manor wasn’t helping.

I had holed up in my den once more, closing the doors to stave off the cold air, and kept the fire roaring all day. The misery outside had crept into my skin and reminded me too much of the dark times that had occurred here. 

I took another sip of the brandy I had been drinking all afternoon, and was pleasantly buzzed as the smooth liquid spread warmth into my chest. The winter sun was dropping slowly over the horizon and just as I had given up, the owl I had been waiting for finally landed on the sill. 

Crossing the room, I opened the window and took the package before quickly closing out the gust of freezing air that had rushed in. I sat in the armchair by the fire and I rolled the parchment note. 

_ Scent is a heady reminder of the things we lust after. Enjoy xx  _

The buzz drained from my head and I was instantly sober.  _ Lust after?  _

I tore the paper from the box; the bright green bottle that was so familiar to me was nestled in the tissue paper inside. Clive Christian  _ 1872 _ cologne. The cologne I had begun to wear after Narcissa’s departure. Very few people knew I wore it, so my stranger had either seen me purchasing it or had been close enough to scent it on me. 

Either way, it appeared they were lusting after it.


	15. December 15

* * *

**DECEMBER 15**

* * *

  
  


“Father.” Draco held up the bottle and I winced. “This is a four thousand Galleon bottle of champagne.” 

I took it from him and placed it back on my desk. “I am well aware.”

“Who the hell could afford that?” He eyed me suspiciously. “Are you sure you’re not sending these gifts to yourself.”

“I am not,” I retorted. “I have never — and _would_ _never_ — spend that amount on champagne. Not even for your mother. It’s a frivolous waste.”

“So, you’re not happy about this gift?”

“I am delighted at this gift. I am simply concerned that a complete stranger is sending such extravagant items.”

Draco glanced at the window seat; the gifts had been accumulating there for two weeks now. “Maybe it’s not a stranger. Maybe it  _ is _ someone close.”

“Did you and Katie raid one of my vaults?”

Draco laughed. “No, it’s definitely not us. We’re concerned about you, but not  _ this _ concerned.”

“You’ve no need to be concerned at all,” I chided. “I’m perfectly content on my own.”

My son smirked at me. “Maybe you won’t be on your own much longer. I mean, a rich benefactor? I just hope it’s a  _ she _ .” 

I pursed my lips and handed him the paperwork for Scorpius’ accounts. I’d never once considered that my stranger was anything other than a  _ she _ . But Draco’s comment gave me pause to think. What if one of my old Death Eater comrades wanted back in my favour? 

Draco rolled the parchment I had just handed him, grinning at me like a madman. “I’m sure it’s a  _ she _ , father. The entire world knows Lucius Malfoy isn’t one to experiment.” 

“Was there anything else you needed?”

“No, your annoyance is enough.” He laughed and said his farewell, calling out to me from the parlour when the Floo activated. “I think you have another gift!”

I waited until I heard him leave before entering the parlour, and I was glad I did when I returned to the den and opened the box. 

A red satin blindfold made my insides clench. 

_ Heightened awareness comes from being blind to all else. Enjoy xx _


	16. December 16

* * *

**DECEMBER 16**

* * *

  
  


After receiving the blindfold, I had moved the gifts to the window seat in my bedchamber. I knew there would be questions from my son, questions I had no desire to respond to. 

And, while my mind had gone straight to the gutter, I truly had no idea what the blindfold even meant. Was it actually telling me I had been blind to my own errors in judgement? That my faith in a mentally deranged despot was my undoing and I had been too blind to see it? 

Or had I been on the right track? 

Was my initial reaction correct? Was this some kind of sensory fantasy? 

I was definitely hoping it was the latter. 

I picked up the blindfold, running my thumb over the red satin, images of my stranger’s eyes covered while I teased and taunted her filled my mind. Sex with Narcissa had been perfectly fine, but not what I would call earth-shattering. She’d never wanted much more than me over her, and she’d never ventured lower than my chest with her hands or her mouth. So the fantasies this simple piece of cloth conjured did not include my ex-wife’s favourite position.

I headed back to the Solarium — the rain having picked up again — and was once more mentally naming women I knew. However, those I came up with as possibilities had been associated with Narcissa and knew to stay well away. The Pureblood women in the circle of friends we had shared were money-hungry trolls and would have done anything to get their hands on the Malfoy fortune. But they also knew that I wasn’t a fool when it came to money, and my marriage ending in divorce meant no other woman would ever be allowed near my bank vaults. 

The fire was lit, warming the room, and I wasn’t at all surprised to find another package waiting for me on the tea tray. The package was similar in size to the quill — long and flat — and since there had yet to be a double up, I was curious as to what it contained. 

My initial impression was that it was another quill, but when I lifted the red feather from the box, I realised there was no tip. It was just a simple feather. I frowned and picked up the note. 

_ When used correctly, even a feather can bring a man to his knees. Enjoy xx  _

My cock hardened in my pants and I swallowed thickly. 

_ Who was my stranger? _


	17. December 17

* * *

**DECEMBER 17**

* * *

  
  


Another series of vivid images filled my subconscious mind. 

A red satin blindfold covering the face of my stranger.  
Chocolate melting over her tanned skin.  
A red feather sliding along her inner thigh. 

There was another mess on my stomach when I woke myself with a loud moan. 

I flung my arm across my face and cursed. I’d seen more action in my dreams in the last few nights than I had in the last few years. 

And it was fucking embarrassing. My stranger had turned me into a horny teenage boy with no self-control. 

Self-control I would have to re-gain should we meet. 

A tapping sound pulled me from my self-loathing; today’s owl was earlier than usual. A quick  _ Scourgify _ charm cleaned my stomach, and wrapping my robe around myself, I crossed the room to retrieve my gift. 

In the first deviation from the usual square box, this one was round, and roughly the size of my palm. And the slight deviation intrigued me. 

Pulling the string and peeling the paper away, I lifted the lid and frowned.

“Curious,” I murmured and pulled the neatly curled lengths of green ribbon from the box; four in all and about two feet in length. My frown deepened. 

What purpose could these serve?

I unfurled the note and my question was answered. 

_ The ties that bind don’t always have to be shackles. Enjoy xx  _

My heart picked up speed. What exactly was my stranger planning?


	18. December 18

* * *

**DECEMBER 18**

* * *

  
  


The ribbons I had received hadn’t helped with my dreams. Now my stranger was not only blindfolded, she was also tied to my bed. The red feather was beside her on the pillow and my mouth was pressing kisses along her stomach. She tasted like the rainstorm outside — pure, fresh, clean. 

My lips moved lower, my teeth closing over the lace covering her and tugging it down. Her hand slipped into my hair and a quiet moan sounded, causing me to look up. Her face was obscured, the blindfold covering her eyes and hiding her true image from me. 

I groaned in frustration; I was desperate to know who she was. 

But once again, my dream was disrupted. Not by an owl, but this time by the wooshing sound of the Floo. 

I glanced at the clock. 10am. I had overslept. 

“Damnit!” I grumbled and rolled out of bed, just as Rupert appeared, looking horrified that he had found me naked. 

His eyes slammed shut and he began apologising. “Rupert is sorry, Master Lucius. Rupert didn’t mean to see the Master in such a state.”

He banged his head against the wall and I stopped him instantly. 

“Stop banging your head!” I demanded. “It’s entirely my fault I overslept and am now late for my son. Please tell him I will be down shortly.”

The little elf nodded and disappeared with a pop. I sighed and looked down at myself, realising exactly why Rupert had been so horrified. My cock was like steel, standing to attention and waiting for release. With a groan, I scrubbed my hand across my face, cursing my stranger and whatever game she was playing. 

After showering quickly and calming my body, I made my way downstairs to meet my son. His plans to open his own potion company were moving along quickly, but he was concerned that he wasn’t ready to branch out with a new baby on the way . 

“Father,” he greeted with a smirk. “Sorry I woke you.”

“I was up late,” I lied.

“So, you didn’t get a visit from your secret Santa?”

“No. I definitely did not.” 

“Well, there’s another gift waiting for you.” He nodded towards my desk. “You’re being spoiled more than usual.”

I sat behind my desk and pushed the box aside. As much as I wanted to rip it open, I held my control. “Did you come here just to make smart remarks?”

He sat opposite me and laughed, “No, but I am enjoying how much this is making you squirm.”

I rolled my eyes and asked him to be serious, then spent the next hour discussing the best course of action for his and Katie’s well-being. He was determined to move away from the spoiled brat image he once held, and I admired his ambition to want to provide for his family without relying on his name. 

When he left, my attention turned to the package on my desk. The flat, rectangular box tempting me to tear it open… and that’s exactly what I did. 

And I was glad of my self-control when my son was here. The gift was the most unexpected yet. 

An emerald green bra with darker green lace edging along the flimsy cups. 

My hand trembled as I picked up the note.

_ Imagine the possibilities… _

_ _


	19. December 19

* * *

**DECEMBER 19**

* * *

  
  


_ …that this could bring. Enjoy xx _

I’d been imagining possibilities since I’d opened this morning’s gift. And those possibilities seemed endless. 

The emerald green bra was now a pair; matching knickers had arrived. Emerald green, with lace that would sit at the top of her thighs, 

The colour was a tease — obviously Slytherin — and my mind went yet again to who my stranger could possibly be. 

The pureblood women I knew — while brash and confident — would never send lingerie to a man. So my thoughts turned to the half-blood and Muggle-born women I knew. However, there were so very few I could name. And of those few, I doubted they had any interest in me romantically. 

I’d returned the knickers to the box they had arrived in and placed it on a shelf in my dressing room with the bra, the blindfold and the ribbons. While Draco — or anyone else — would never enter my bedchamber, I felt the need to keep these gifts hidden. They were something only for me and, no matter what my stranger had planned, my selfish side wanted to keep them  _ only _ for me. 

And the relentless teasing from my son was something I had no desire to endure. 

He had been adamant that I ‘get back out there’ after his mother left, but since I’d only ever been with Narcissa, and since our betrothal had been somewhat arranged, my experience with the opposite sex was extremely limited. And despite outward appearances, my confidence in approaching a woman was low. 

I stared out the window and smiled. My apprehension, however, didn’t extend to my stranger. 

Instead, I was eager to find out what she had planned.


	20. December 20

* * *

**DECEMBER 20**

* * *

I was pacing my den like a caged lion. It was late in the afternoon, and the expected gift had yet to arrive. 

As the day wore on I had begun to convince myself that it _was_ all just a tease, that my stranger was someone I may have wronged and had pulled me into her world. Then left me wanting. 

My anger and paranoia fought with my want and desire. It was a combination that was causing me grief like I’d never known. I wanted to hate this woman if she was indeed playing me, but I was also now in far too deep to let her go. 

I paused at the window. The sun was dipping low and my disappointment was growing. I poured myself a tumbler of scotch and continued my vigil at the window. No one in my life had ever held me under their thrall like my stranger had. Not Narcissa, not even the Dark Lord himself. 

I had no idea who she was, but this vixen knew me, and she had definitely put a spell on me. However, as the sky darkened, I began to give up hope and moved away from the window. I entered my dressing room and glanced at the boxes on the shelf. 

I frowned; a box I didn’t recognise was sitting on the shelf. I reached for it and upon seeing the small parchment scroll on top of the box, a slow smile crept across my face. My stranger was more wiley than I thought. 

_“Shoes are just the pedestal. What interests me is the power of the woman who wears them.”  
_ _Christian Louboutin._

_Enjoy xx_

Louboutin. I knew the name well; Narcissa had become fascinated with the red-soled shoes after a trip we’d taken to Paris to console her after Draco first went to Hogwarts. 

But the shoes housed within this box were unlike anything Narcissa had ever worn. 

Red stilettos with a thin strap that criss-crossed its way across the top of the shoe and would wind around the wearer’s calves. 

Tracing my finger down the spiked-heel, I grinned. Red shoes and green lingerie… 

I really was in for a Christmas treat.

  
  



	21. December 21

* * *

**DECEMBER 21**

* * *

  
  


_ A gift for you, for me. Wear these on the 24th… pair them with the 1872. Enjoy xx _

For the first time in my life, I was blushing. After the previous gifts, I had assumed the next one would be along similar lines; however, what I received was the last thing I expected. 

Tight, red boxer briefs with laces in the front. And very little would be left to the imagination. 

Holding them up, I turned them around, then back to the front again. I had never worn anything like them in my life. It was only recently that I had begun to dress down at home, never having been one to parade around in my underwear — Narcissa wouldn’t have allowed it — but I was in agreement with my ex-wife in this case. 

I shoved them back into the box and covered them with the lid, and with my face blushing once more, I put the box on the shelf in my dressing room, and began to retreat from the room. 

Then I paused. 

If my nameless, faceless stranger was planning to wear the lingerie that was waiting on the shelf, would it really be an inconvenience to wear those tiny pants for one night? And if she really wanted me to see me in them, it would — hopefully — be behind closed doors. 

I turned back to the shelf and looked at the collection of boxes. She knew me well enough to send gifts that were both thoughtful and personal, gifts that gave me cause to think that someone outside my small family might actually care about me. Someone who was prepared to give themselves to me willingly. 

It was a foreign feeling. 

I was Lucius Malfoy. I was a pompous arse. I was given a wide berth wherever I went. No one wanted to know me, and no one certainly wanted to be me without a reason. 

I reached out and touched the boxes. 

My stranger knew me, and knew me well. 

And she still wanted to be with me.


	22. December 22

* * *

**DECEMBER 22**

* * *

  
  


“... _When the grounds were deserted once more, there wriggled from a hole between the roots of the tree stump a stout and whiskery old rabbit with a wand clamped between her teeth. Babbitty hopped out of the grounds and far away, and ever after a golden statue of the washerwoman stood upon the tree stump, and no witch or wizard was ever persecuted in the kingdom again.” ***** _

Scorpius had dozed off on my lap as I read to him, his little body growing heavier as he relaxed deeper into sleep. Draco and Katie were at dinner with friends, promising they wouldn’t be too late, but I wasn’t concerned in the slightest. Any chance I got to spend with my grandson was a chance I would gladly take. 

We had played trains on the floor, had watched the snow falling outside the windows, had eaten biscuits until we nearly exploded. And then it was pyjamas and a story when he began getting wobbly on his feet. 

My guilt over never having spent more time — _any_ time — with Draco when he was small always weighed on me. My stiff upbringing was all I had ever known, so Draco had been taught the same. Narcissa had been softer, but house-elves and nannies still spent more time with him. 

I leaned my cheek on Scorpius’ crown, closing my eyes and smiling at the tiny squeaks he made with each breath. I should have put him in his cot, but l couldn’t bring myself to move. 

“Father?” 

I felt a hand shake my arm and my eyes blinked open. Draco was grinning at me, and Katie was smiling sweetly. They were home, and I had clearly dozed off. 

“Sorry,” I whispered but Katie shook her head. 

“It’s fine. He loves snuggles with his _Pa_.”

Draco lifted him gently from my lap, and I stood, a little embarrassed that they had found me asleep. 

“I’ll head off,” I told them and headed for the Floo. 

The damned bottle on my dresser, the one I had almost forgotten about, stood out like a beacon when I entered my bedchamber. 

Black Cat Apothecary, _Vigere_ ; a stamina potion. 

I wasn’t sure if I should be insulted or if I should be truly concerned as to what was coming. I’d never needed _assistance_ in my life. Narcissa may have preferred quiet, simple, under-the-covers sex, but I never once failed to please her. 

Picking up the note beside it, I scowled. 

  
  


_I plan on enjoying you all night xx_

  
  


Maybe my stranger didn’t truly know me at all. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Babbitty Rabbitty and Her Cackling Stump by JK Rowling, Tales of Beedle the Bard, Bloomsbury, 2008.


	23. December 23

* * *

**DECEMBER 23**

* * *

I flittered back and forth between annoyance at the  _ Vigere _ and anticipation at the fact the traditional advent days were almost up. And if her suggestion regarding the pants was true, she would be revealing herself the next day. 

“Another gift, Master Lucius,” Rupert said when he appeared in my den. “Master is being very lucky for Christmas.”

“Yes, Rupert. I am very fortunate,” I replied and took the box from him. “If you would be so kind to make some tea?”

Rupert nodded and disappeared instantly, leaving me to my gift. I stared at it for a moment; trying to imagine what it could possibly contain. Everything seemed to have been building from the day the chocolate arrived. Champagne, blindfold, ribbons, lingerie… the feather… I wasn’t sure what else was needed. 

I pulled what was possibly the last string and opened the box. A leather-bound volume, tied with another slim green ribbon was inside. 

_ Peacocking _ by BW Regnarg.

The book had taken both the wizarding and Muggle worlds by storm. An erotic tale about a rich, aristocratic wizard who flaunts himself everywhere and finally meets his match in a feisty young witch. I had read the book — had also lied about doing so — and had found myself wishing I was the lead character. The feisty witch was one I would love to tame. 

The book had been on top of the best-seller lists for over a year and the author was now one of the richest people in both worlds. However, no one knew who that author was. She — at least everyone assumed the author was a she — had remained elusive, refusing to reveal her true self. And I couldn’t blame her; the sex scenes were enough to make the most lascivious person blush. 

I turned the box over and then looked down at the floor; there was no note. Picking the book up again, I thumbed the edges of the pages, wondering if she had left it hidden within, but nothing slipped out from the pages. 

Frowning, I opened the book to the front and turned each page. The blank front page, the copyright, the dedication…

It was signed BW Regnarg, and the dedication — as it had in all her books — simply said,  _ Enjoy xx  _

I was stunned; the elusive author was my stranger.


	24. December 24

* * *

**DECEMBER 24**

* * *

I stepped out of the Floo into Draco and Katie’s hallway, wincing and discreetly adjusting my trousers. The pants my stranger had requested I wear were… unexpected. 

The laces at the front were affecting me in a way that wasn’t at all appropriate for mixed company. Any movement I made had them brushing over my cock and causing a… rise. I could have simply not worn them, but I had no idea when she would show up and I didn’t want to have to explain why. 

And I assumed that was their purpose anyway. 

I took a steadying breath and made my way into the sitting room. Draco and Katie would be spending Christmas morning with Katie’s parents, and then the remainder of the day with Narcissa. And despite their reassurances that I was welcome, I had absolutely no desire to be a part of it. I would happily spend my day reading to avoid spending one second with my ex-wife. So Draco had suggested a small Christmas Eve party and I had agreed to join. 

The group had already gathered, and much like Draco and Katie, this group of friends had been able to put their differences aside. 

Pansy Parkinson was now Pansy Potter, and she and Harry were the proud parents of two dark-haired boys, who were both the image of their father. Blaise was recently married to Katie’s good friend Alicia, and they were deep in conversation with Harry and Ronald. Katie’s parents were chatting with Daphne Greengrass, who looked to be pregnant with Ron’s child. Pansy’s mother, Gabriella, was speaking with Liliana and Arturo Nott, and Theo was on the floor playing with the three boys while his wife, Ginny Weasley, laughed with Katie. 

It was a scene that was unimaginable just a few years ago but now seemed perfectly normal. 

“Excuse me, sorry,” came a voice from behind me.

I turned and was surprised to see Hermione Granger glancing up at me, wide-eyed and somewhat nervously. 

“Ms Granger,” I said in greeting, stepping out of the doorway. “It’s lovely to see you.”

“Thank you.” She smiled politely and spoke quietly, almost inaudibly. “It’s lovely to see you too, Mr Malfoy.”

Her eyes dropped away and I felt an instant rush of guilt. The things I had said to her when she was a teenager were deplorable and I’d seen so little of her I’d not had the chance to apologise. But I wasn’t sure this was the time or the place to beg her forgiveness. 

“Nee! Nee!” Scorpius squealed and raced across the room, his arms outstretched towards Ms Granger. 

Her face changed completely; her smile brightened and her eyes lit up as she scooped my grandson into her arms. 

“Nee!” he squealed again — his two-year-old inability to pronounce  _ Hermione _ shortening her name to one simple syllable. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” She hugged him tightly. “Are you ready for Santa?”

He babbled something excitedly and she laughed and kissed his cheek. 

“Well, that sounds very exciting,” she replied, as if understanding whatever it was he had said. “Are James and Albus here?”

Scorpius twisted in her arms and pointed across the room. She smiled at the two Potter boys on the floor with Theo, playing with Scorpius’ trains, and she lowered him back down so he could rejoin them. 

She nodded and smiled nervously again before moving across the room to talk with Harry, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders in a brotherly hug. I caught Draco’s eye and he frowned at me, obviously assuming I had upset her. 

“I said nothing, Draco. Only that it was lovely to see her,” I explained when he approached me. 

“No, it’s not that,” he said quietly. “I should have explained earlier. She doesn’t like Christmas. We haven’t ever been able to get her to come to anything this time of year, but Harry convinced her to make an appearance for the boys.”

“Her parents,” I said and he nodded. I knew the Obliviation story and as Katie had explained, Ms Granger would never forgive herself for using such a strong charm. Christmas without her only family must have been lonely, and that she blamed herself only served to make it worse. 

“We’ll be lucky if she stays here a whole hour, and that’s more than we could hope for,” Draco explained. “So if she leaves early, it’s not because you’re here.”

I nodded and crossed the room to join the group, keeping one eye on Ms Granger. When Narcissa left, I was devastated, but at least she still knew who I was, and I had my son. Ms Granger had no one. Katie had said she was still close with Harry and Ronald, but somehow I knew it wasn’t the same. I would be completely lost without Draco, Katie, and Scorpius. 

My interest in her was a confusion. Why I was drawn to her and how she must feel made no sense. I’d had little to no interaction with her since those last days of the war. But her heartache burned me. The war had taken so much from her, and it was only now, after my life had taken an unexpected turn, that I understood. 

“Pa?” Scorpius looked up at me and I lifted him from the floor. “Here?”

“When did I get here?” I chuckled. He’d been so distracted by Ms Granger, he’d not noticed I’d also arrived. “You were too busy playing.” 

“Al,” he said with a smile.

“Yes, I can see Albus is here to play. Are you having fun?”

He nodded and squirmed in my arms. My time was up; his friends were here and that was much more important than his Grandpa. I leaned down and set him on the floor, noticing Ms Granger watching me as I did. I smiled again at her, hoping to relay the simple message that I no longer thought less of her. But she looked away before I could truly gauge her expression. 

“He‘s such a sweet child, Lucius,” Liliana said. “And you’re so good with him.”

“Trying to make up for time lost with my own son,” I admitted and they all nodded in understanding. They had raised their own children in the same manner. “But yes, he’s quite the opposite of his father at the same age.”

“And those two—“ Gabriella nodded towards her two grandsons “—thankfully got Harry’s temperament, not Pansy’s.”

We laughed, and the conversation continued, once more reminding me just how much things had changed. Children and grandchildren had never been discussed so casually, so proudly. It felt odd, but it also felt normal. 

And it wasn't until the food appeared on the tables that I realised she had left.

Draco caught my eye again and shrugged. It had been something at least, that shrug said, a sentiment echoed by Harry.

"We probably shouldn’t push her,” he was saying to Pansy. "She showed up, at least that was something."

"But I hate that she's alone, especially tomorrow."

I knew that they had become friends, but Pansy's concern was still a shock. She wasn't known for her tact, but the quiet tone of her voice, and the expression of worry on her face told me she had clearly changed.

"She'll be okay,” Harry assured her. "She'll come and see the boys on Boxing Day, like she always does."

I tuned out their conversation, my thoughts turning to something unexpected.

_ Maybe I should extend an invitation to her to use the Manor library tomorrow. She could hide away from Christmas in a place that had no reminders of her parents _

But another thought overrode that one almost immediately. 

_ Your stranger hasn't shown up yet. Ms Granger doesn't need to be subjected to anything that was going to happen there.  _

And what  _ was _ going to happen there? Had she shown up and I’d not been there? Had I missed my chance? 

I glanced at the clock; I’d barely been here an hour myself. It would be rude to leave so quickly. But, the gifts I had purchased were already under the tree, and in all honesty, Scorpius had no idea what Christmas was yet, so my early departure wouldn’t be highly concerning. 

I would stay another hour, then use the excuse of not being comfortable around so many people — which wasn’t a lie — to leave and hopefully meet my stranger. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Adrenaline filled my veins as I emerged from the Floo. The twenty-fourth, my stranger had said, and I was anticipating some kind of indication as to where we would meet. 

The Manor was silent — of course it was — and no gifts or notes were on the mantle or the hearth.

I called for Rupert.

“Was there a delivery for me today?”

He shook his head. “No, Master Lucius. Rupert not be seeing any gifts today.”

Disappointment curled in my stomach. It wasn’t especially late, but the hope I had built was deflated with the elf’s simple words. 

“Thank you, Rupert. That will be all for this evening.”

I moved through the Manor, once again feeling the emptiness in the hallways. Narcissa had hated clutter, so the long corridors were furnished only with floor runners and the portraits on the walls. The rooms all contained antique furniture, with the exception of mine. As soon as she left, I redecorated, ridding myself of the ancient four post bed and creaking mahogany dressers, and replacing it with softer, more comfortable furniture. 

I paused at the door of my den — another room that I had changed to suit my tastes — and looked over my desk for any missed notes. Rupert wouldn’t lie, but I still felt the urge to check. 

Sighing, I walked further down the hallway to the stairs, taking each step slowly with the heavy disappointment I now felt. I paused at the window at the top of the stairs, staring out at the snow reflected in the moonlight. Large, thick flakes had now begun to fall; the grounds would be buried under several feet by morning. It would be the perfect excuse to lie-in. 

I walked to the end of the hall to my bedchamber and came to a halt when I stepped inside the room. My jaw actually dropped open and I made a very undignified, unintelligible sound. 

My secret Santa was here, but she was most definitely not a stranger. 

Hermione Granger was sitting in the armchair by the window, bathed in a warm glow of light from the orb floating above her and looking very much at home. One leg was crossed over the other, the red laces of the heels criss-crossed up her calves, ending in cheeky bows just beneath her knees. She was wearing the emerald bra, and I had to assume the matching knickers — with the position she was in, I was unable to tell. 

And she looked nothing like the nervous, shy woman I had encountered just an hour ago. 

"Mr Malfoy," she purred in a voice that stirred my adrenaline to life again.

"Ms Granger,” I croaked. 

"You look surprised."

"I don't think surprised is strong enough to be accurate.” 

Dumbfounded would have been closer to what I was feeling.

"Who  _ were _ you expecting?" she asked with an amused expression on her face.

“I can't honestly say," I admitted. "But you weren’t a consideration."

“I would be shocked if I was.” She laughed. “And have you enjoyed your gifts?”

I glanced at her chest then down at her legs. “Some of them, yes.” 

“Are you ready to enjoy the others?” 

She nodded towards the bed and I saw the blindfold, ribbons, and the book laid out. The champagne was in an ice-bucket on the bedside table, and the two chocolate truffles were inside the champagne flutes beside it. 

My mouth moved to respond but no sound came out, making her laugh again. Then in a slow, graceful move, she stood and crossed the room, and I couldn’t help but stare. The red heels and the laces around her calves made her legs go on forever, and the bra that had teased me was still doing so. Her breasts were barely contained, pushed up and spilling out of the emerald cups. 

She stopped in front of me, close enough to lean in and press her nose to my neck. 

“Mmm, you smell delicious,” she hummed. “Did you wear the other thing I asked?”

I gripped her shoulders and held her at arms length. “Ms Granger… Hermione. What exactly is happening here?”

“I thought that would be obvious.” Her smirk softened to a sweet smile when I frowned. She toyed with the top button on my shirt. “Lucius, I wanted to get your attention and I  _ think _ I succeeded.”

“You did, on both accounts, but why?”

“The simple answer would be,  _ why not _ , but there’s nothing simple about this.” She freed the button on my shirt and touched her fingertip to the hollow at the base of my throat. “You, Lucius Malfoy, have long been my fantasy. The rich, handsome, aristocrat. Who wouldn’t want that?”

“But…” I began, glancing down at the book, trying to reconcile the woman in front of me with the author of that book. I began to think I had been incorrect. She wasn’t the author. She was just living out the fantasy of the novel and using me as the main character. Then the name hit me like a  _ Flipendo _ ; Regnarg was Granger spelled backwards. “You’re...?”

“BW Regnarg? Yes.”

“But that novel is more than a little... suggestive.”

“To put it mildly.”

“And BW?” 

She smirked at me. “Brightest Witch.”

“Clever,” I answered. “So, you wrote your fantasy and published it for the entire world to see?”

She shrugged. “ It worked out  _ very _ well for me; I'm probably richer than you now . Besides, no one knows it’s me… or you. I had a hard time writing you with short, dark hair, though.” She tugged gently on the end of my hair. “I like you blond.”

I took a step back from her, needing some space to take in what she was saying. This woman — who was half my age — was fantasising about me and wrote a book about it? I didn’t understand. She should hate me, should loathe the fact I was still breathing. 

I wanted to ask her why I was her fantasy, but taking a step back hadn’t helped my situation; she was now in full view once more. And,  _ Merlin-on-a-stick _ , she was a sight. Her shoulders were set straight, her chest thrust out, and confidence oozed from her. Her waist tapered into the gentle curve of her hip, and I now wanted her thighs, which I had already admired, wrapped firmly around me. 

And then another thought hit me. 

“If this is  _ your _ fantasy…”

Her smirk returned. “Penny in the air.”

“And I’m the lead…” My adrenaline spiked; in the book,  _ she _ tied  _ him _ up. 

“And the penny drops.” She reached behind her back and her bra fell away. 

I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut. Everything about this was wrong. This was not what I knew. Women didn’t do this. They didn't just show up, near naked, in bedrooms, wanting to tie men up and do…  _ things… _ with them. 

I felt her fingers on my chest again. “Why aren't you looking at me?”

“I don’t think I should be.”

“Lucius.” Another button loosened. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“Why me?” I asked again and opened my eyes. My stomach clenched at the sweet smile on her face. Her expression was even more alluring than the sultry look she’d given me when I first stepped into the room. 

“Because I have a thing for older men,” she said and slipped another button free. “And the man I want is you.”

She leaned in and kissed my chest. I closed my eyes and sucked in a shaky breath. Could I do this? Could I give her what she wanted? 

“Stop thinking,” she murmured.

I grabbed her shoulders once more and looked her in the eyes. “This is not what I’m used to. Women aren’t… this.”

“Women  _ are _ this.” She touched my cheek. “Women aren’t quiet and demure, not anymore.”  She slid her hands beneath my jacket and pushed it off my shoulders. “Women know what they want. And what this woman wants, Lucius Malfoy, is you.”

“But…” I swallowed thickly, “After all the gifts, one night is all you want?”

She leaned down and picked up the book. “Did you read all of this, or just the sex?”

“All of it,” I replied, my cheeks heating at the thought of her knowing I’d read her fantasy. 

“Well, you would know in the end, the feisty witch got her man and they lived happily ever after.”

“So… you want more than this?”

She unfastened another button and ran her fingers across my chest. “The gifts were given to you in the hope that you would give me a chance.”

“ _ I _ would give  _ you _ a chance?” I almost choked. “I think that should be the other way around.”

She pulled my shirt tails from my trousers and unfastened the remaining buttons. “You’re a changed man, Lucius Malfoy, and a second chance should be given to those who are willing to make the most of it.”

I watched her unclip the cufflinks, her eyes never leaving mine. My shirt hit the floor, landing on my jacket and she touched the buckle on my belt. 

“Did you do as I asked?”

The last shred of willpower I had slipped away. 

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

She grinned and slid her arms around my neck. “You’re going to let me play with you, then?”

“Ms Granger… Hermione—“ I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her against me “—you can do as you please with me.”

I hesitated for a split-second, flicking my tongue out to wet my lips before meeting her mouth with mine. She kissed me hungrily, like she’d been starving, like she’d been waiting for years for me to finally relent. Her tongue stroked over my lips, and I swallowed her quiet sigh when I opened my mouth and she slipped inside. 

My hands roamed across her back, sliding down her spine, and over the curve of her backside. I squeezed and pulled her against me, her tight nipples pressing against my chest and sending pulses of desire to every nerve in my body. 

Her hands slid into my hair and she gently tugged me away. 

“I could kiss you all night, Lucius. But—” her hands dropped to the front of my trousers “—I really want to know if you’re wearing my gift.” 

I took half a step back and kicked off my shoes — a clear invitation to do as she pleased. 

She went to work on my belt, pulling it through the loops and dropping it to the floor. Her hand closed around me through the stretched fabric of my trousers, and she grinned impishly.

"I may have gotten the description vastly incorrect."

She unfastened the button, then slowly lowered the zipper, her breath catching when the tight, red pants were revealed beneath.

The laces were stretched to their limits, barely holding together as I grew even harder. 

"Oh," she breathed. "Oh, this is… You’re…  _ oh _ !” 

She dropped to her knees, pulling my trousers down, and allowing me to step out of them. I removed my socks while she took me in. Her eyes were wide and filled with all kinds of sin. She reached for one of the ribbons, and moved to tie it around my ankle, but I lifted my foot, wincing.

“Lucius?" She looked up at me.

"I can't... not my ankles,

Her brow furrowed, then her face cleared, her gentle fingers touching the place where the Azkaban shackles had left their mark.

She stood and took my hands in hers. “What about your wrists?”

Those shackles hadn't been as bad. The thick, heavy metal around my ankles had been hell, digging into my shins with every step I took. 

"I think they'll be fine."

“This is my fantasy, Lucius. If you don’t want me to—“

“I want you to, but there are some things I just can’t do.”

She placed her palm over my heart. “Tell me.”

I’d only been in Azkaban for two months; the rest of my sentence had been suspended and I had been put on home detention. But those two months had been the longest of my life. 

“The wrists should be fine, but not the ankles. And I don’t think I can manage the blindfold either.”

She smiled and nodded, flicking her wrist in the direction of the bed and vanishing the strip of red satin and two of the ribbons. 

Walking backwards, our arms stretched between us, and she tugged me to the side of the bed. 

“Lie down,” she commanded gently. “On your back.”

I stretched the waistband on my pants. “Are you taking these off?”

“Not yet.” She pushed against my chest. “I want to take my time with you.”

I positioned myself in the middle of the bed and lifted my arms above my head, a rush of nerves hitting me. I closed my eyes and reminded myself this wasn’t my prison cell. This was my home. I was safe. 

I felt her lips press against my chest and I opened my eyes. She was smiling at me. 

“Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

She straddled my chest, the two green ribbons dangling from her hands. I moved my arms, wanting to touch her, but she tutted and the ribbons slid around my wrists, and my arms were above my head once more. I tested the ribbons, tugging my wrists, but I was securely tied to the bedhead. 

“If you need me to release you, Lucius, just tell me.”

I nodded and waited to see what she would do. But she surprised me. She shuffled backwards then leaned down and kissed me. It was soft, gentle, almost soothing. And it was what I needed to calm my racing nerves. 

“Any time,” she whispered against my lips. “And you’ll be free in a heartbeat.”

She cupped my cheeks and continued to kiss me. However, this kiss wasn’t sweet and gentle; it was pure lust, hard and commanding, tongues and teeth and lips clashing as the mystery of the last three weeks unfolded on top of me in the most unimaginable way. 

I wanted to touch her, to tell her to unbind me, but I held back. I also wanted to experience this, to know what it felt like to just give in. And with everything she’d done to build to this moment, I at least owed her my trust.

She shifted again, her hips lifting and meeting mine. I groaned into her mouth; my reaction to her was tangible. Her skin warm and smooth, her breasts crushed against my chest, the heat of her core pressed against my cock. I tilted my hips, wanting to feel more of her, as she pressed her mouth against my neck. Her mouth sucked at my pulse, her lips and tongue caressing my skin and giving me thought as to what those lips would feel like elsewhere. 

She sat up and watched as I took her in, dragging my gaze down her body and back up to her face. A smile spread across my own face when the red feather appeared out of nowhere.

“Are you here to torture me?”

She brushed the feather down the centre of my chest. “Torture? No. Only pleasure.”

She kissed me once more, then shifted again, this time positioning herself between my legs. I felt the soft brush of the feather along the inside of my thigh and groaned. I tried to push the scenes in the book out of my head, but with the feather sliding along my legs, it was almost impossible not to. 

The similarities were there, but only because I knew who she was. The main characters in the book — Jay and Emme — were now who I saw us as. He was tall, with short, dark hair, but the snobby, aristocrat was too similar to be anyone else but me. And she had written herself as blonde and flawless; the typical romance novel heroine. But the character  _ was _ feisty, smart, and a talented witch, and seeing her now, I was truly surprised that no one had put it together. 

And the fantasy was something I would never have contemplated ever coming from her. The persona she displayed in public was quiet and studious, someone who wanted to move away from the war heroine image, and live her life with no more excitement. I was certain men  _ had _ fantasised about her stripping down to her underwear and parading before them, but I doubted any of them thought it an actual possibility. But if her statement was true —  _ they got their happily ever after _ — none of them would ever see her like this. 

“What are you thinking about?” she asked, trailing the feather across my lower abdomen. 

“Dark haired aristocrats and blonde vixens and happily ever afters,” I replied honestly. 

She chuckled and dipped her head down to kiss my hip. “Are you the blond vixen?”

I snorted a laugh. “Possibly.”

She grinned cheekily and tickled my navel with the feather. “ _ Definitely _ a vixen.”

The feather traveled up my body, across my breastbone, teasing at the base of my throat. She tickled along my collarbone then trailed along my ribs to my hip. The light touch left a trail of warmth and magic.

She repeated the trail up my chest, this time teasing my other side on the return journey.

Holding my gaze, she continued to brush the feather across my navel, slowly teasing me and causing my heart to beat faster. She traced it down the insides of my legs, back up along my hips, missing the one place I wanted to feel her touch. I was straining against the tight fabric, wanting her to release me and take me in her mouth. This might have been her fantasy, but I had my own as well. 

Placing the feather on my chest, she began her tease with her hands. Following the same path as she had with the feather, her fingers danced lightly over my chest, my arms, my ribs, across my stomach and hips, down the insides of my thighs. 

The moan I was holding burst from my lungs when she leaned down and pressed a sucking kiss to my hip. 

“You are incredibly beautiful.” She kissed my other hip. “I don’t think my writing did you justice.”

I groaned in response as her fingers tugged at the laces on my briefs, relieving the pressure. My head dropped back and I closed my eyes when she kissed the spot just above the base of my cock. I felt the laces slip further apart and her hand curled around my aching length and eased me from the tight confines. 

Her fingers explored me, her thumb finding the sensitive spot at the base of the head, circling gently. And the longer she touched me, the more it felt like she was meant to touch me.

I lifted my head when she paused. 

“I want you, Lucius. I want you in every way I know.”

“Have me,” I answered, watching her tongue slide over her lips. 

Still holding my gaze, she flicked her wrist and the red underwear disappeared. I was naked — finally — and completely at her mercy.

Taking me in both hands, she licked a line along the underside of my shaft from base to tip. She swirled her tongue around the crown, licking with the slowest, most decadent strokes I could imagine.

She seemed determined to lick every inch of me.

Her hands pressed against the insides of my thighs, gently pushing my legs further apart. Her head dipped lower and I couldn’t help but curse when her lips slid over my balls in another sucking kiss. 

“Hmm,” she hummed, the vibration of her lips against my sac causing my muscles to clench. “I wonder if you taste this delicious all over.”

She opened her mouth and surrounded me with her lips. 

“Fucking hell!” I shouted and stared down at her, watching her mouth slide slowly down my entire length until I felt the back of her throat. She lingered for a moment then began the slow slide back up again. 

“So delicious,” she said, licking her lips and taking me in again. 

My head thumped back to the pillow again and I balled my hands into fists; I wanted to touch her, hold her hair while her tongue tasted me. I groaned — half in frustration, half in pleasure — and tugged my hands against the bindings. 

“Hermione,” I groaned and instantly felt the ribbons slide from my wrists. 

My hands went to her hair, dragging it away from her face and loving the visual of her swollen red lips wrapped around me. She moved her mouth slowly, drawing up and sinking down in an almost torturous slide. Her tongue and teeth added to the sensation, but the wet warmth of her mouth was exactly what I wanted to feel. 

This was the type of sex I’d always wanted. Raw and needy. Uninhibited. Wild and frantic. I wanted her to suck on me until I exploded in her mouth. I wanted to taste the forbidden fruit between her thighs. Wanted to bury myself inside her and never leave. 

I had wanted to be with a woman in such a way since I was old enough to know that sex was more than what I was raised to believe. Pureblood etiquette, however, didn’t allow for such frivolity. Marriages were arranged, women were taught to be strong but demure, men were expected to take care of their families, and sex was only ever between a husband and wife. And that sex was quiet and restrained — although most times during, my wildest fantasies played out in my head.

And my fantasy was playing out right before me. 

Her mouth continued on its slow journey up and down my shaft, sucking tightly each time her lips touched the crown. She was incredible, knowing exactly what she was doing, and I had to push away the thought where she had learned this... and who else had experienced it. 

The thought infuriated me and made me possessive.

I sat up, pulling her mouth away and dragging her onto my lap.

“Lucius?”

"I know this is your fantasy, Hermione, but I need my mouth on you right now."

I kissed her throat, trailing my mouth to her chest, plumping and squeezing her breasts with my hands. I sucked one nipple, then the other, biting and licking at the hard buds. She moaned and sighed, her hands tugging at my hair, her fingernails scratching my scalp. 

I wrapped one arm around her and flipped us over, pulling her beneath me and covering her body with mine. I kissed her with the same hunger I felt in her when she had first kissed me. And it was a hunger that I couldn’t contain. 

I began to move down her body, kissing the tiny freckles beneath her collarbone. Her pulse was thumping as hard as mine and the urge to suck a mark onto her skin overtook me. I leaned down and sucked her pulse into my mouth, gently biting her golden skin. Her fingers dug into my shoulders and she gasped. 

“More… harder!” she hissed and I smiled into her skin. 

My stranger liked it rough. 

I nipped at the red mark then moved lower, sucking her nipple into my mouth. The tiny bud pressed against my tongue, made hard and sensitive by her arousal.

“Teeth,” she reminded me, her fingernails biting into my skin as I grazed my teeth over her. 

My hand squeezed her other breast, my thumb flicking her nipple while my tongue continued to caress the tight bud in my mouth. I could tease her like this all night, but she shifted beneath me, her hips rocking up, the soft satin barrier sliding against my heavy cock reminding me of what I wanted. 

I gave her nipple one final, long suck, then kissed my way down her stomach, kissing her once against the damp fabric covering her sex. 

Kneeling between her thighs, I ran my hands over the ribbons criss-crossing her calves, the satin fine and delicate, and I wondered if I should leave them on. But I didn’t fancy those heels digging into me. 

She smiled at me; she knew exactly what I was thinking. 

“Take them off, Lucius. You know you want to.” 

I tugged at the bow beneath her right knee and gripped the heel of her shoe. Pulling it slowly from her foot, the ribbons slid down her leg and I tossed the shoe to the side, then repeated the slow process with the other. 

Kissing the inside of her knee, I glanced up at her. “There’s not one part of you I don’t think beautiful, Hermione.”

“You haven’t seen all of me yet.”

I kissed the inside of her thigh. “I’m sure I’ll love that as well.”

“Are you ready to find out?”

In response, I curled my fingers beneath the waist of her knickers and pulled them down her legs. 

As I glanced down, I could see only bare skin between her thighs. I had heard rumours, had seen pictures that hinted at the fact, but once more, pureblood etiquette hadn't allowed me to experience a woman bare. It wasn't something that was considered appropriate in pureblood society. Oh, women certainly took care of themselves, but to be completely bare? No. It just didn't occur.

“You look shocked,” she observed. 

“No,” I murmured absently and touched my fingers to her bare skin. She was smooth and soft, and when she spread her legs wider I could see how wet she was. 

“Lucius?”

I hummed in response, not able to lift my eyes from where they were.

“Are you just going to stare at me?”

“Maybe.” I slid a single finger through her wet core. “The view is spectacular.”

“Maybe you should take a closer look.”

I leaned towards her, breathing deeply. She smelled dizzying. I wanted to devour her, but a shot of nerves caused me to hesitate. I had no idea of what I should do; this would be my first intimate taste of a woman. 

Glancing up, I found her watching me; the expectant smile on her face didn’t help my nerves. I closed my eyes and took another deep breath, stalling for time to calm myself. I wanted to do this, but I didn’t want to disappoint her. 

Her fingers ran over my head, scratching my scalp lightly, and tugging me closer. 

“Taste me, Lucius,” she whispered. “Put your tongue on me and taste.”

Her expectant smile turned to something sweeter, as if she suddenly understood my nerves, and she reached down and slid her own fingers across her wet skin. She pressed them to my lips and I sucked them into my mouth, groaning at the tang spreading over my tongue.

She tasted too good, looked too beautiful, and I had to tell myself she wanted this. Wanted  _ me _ .

Shoving my nerves away, I smiled at her and let my instincts take over, dipping my head and opening my mouth over her wet slide of skin. I closed my eyes and groaned, sucking the heat of her into my mouth. It was a decadence I had missed out on. And never would again. 

Pushing her leg higher, spreading her wider, l licked up one side and down the other before touching my tongue to her clitoris. Her hands reached down and she threaded her fingers through my hair, holding me right where she wanted me. 

Her sounds were quiet — tiny, breathy moans and gasps — and I sensed she was just waiting for me to catch up. 

Slamming the door on my final nerves, I lost myself in her and sucked hard on the silk of her skin. I dipped my tongue inside her. Circled her clit over and over and over. I sucked and nipped, tasted and breathed her in. She was perfection, and that perfection doubled when she began to rock into me. 

Her hands fell away from my head and when I stared up the length of her body, her hands were now above her head, her fingers gripping the bedhead. Visions of those hands tied with green ribbons broke into my thoughts. 

“Fingers,” she groaned. “Inside...”

I complied, touching two fingers to where she was wettest. Her legs dropped open, and I pushed my fingers inside her, feeling the softness of her body. A pleading whine slipped from her lips and I glanced up again. Her back was arched, her breasts pushed up, and she’d turned her head to one side, her teeth biting the pillowcase. My confidence soared and I did everything I could to push her pleasure to its peak. 

Her legs were spread wide, her hips moving fast and fucking my face. My fingers slid in and out of her, rough and fast, my cheeks hollowing as I sucked harder at the tight bud of her clit. Her moans became louder, her body tightened, her thighs clamped hard against my head, and with a sharp cry, she came. Hot and rough, her body jerking against my face. 

“Lucius,” she breathed, her body sinking into the bed. 

“Yes?” I asked smugly. 

"That was...” She lifted her head. “You haven’t done that before?”

I propped myself onto my elbows and looked curiously at her. I shouldn’t have been surprised — she seemed to know everything about me — but this was something very personal, and Narcissa would be the only person who could share that information with her. 

“How did you know?” I asked, slightly dreading the answer. 

She pushed up on one elbow and ran her thumb over my lips. “Your mouth felt like it was experiencing something for the first time.”

I smiled in relief and slid up her body, kissing just beneath her bellybutton, the curve of her waist, the tight peaks of her nipples. I wanted to fuck her, wanted to take her with a roughness I’d never known. But more than that, I simply wanted to feel the warmth of her sex around me. 

She lay back and I followed, the length of my cock sliding through the wet heat between her spread thighs. 

“You are unexpected, Hermione.” I kissed her jaw and groaned when she slipped her hand between us. “Completely unexpected.”

Lifting off her, I watched her slide the very tip of me through her warm skin, over the rise of her clit, and down to dip against her entrance. Her legs wrapped around my hips and my body tensed; the need to push into her almost overwhelming me. 

“Lucius, please.” 

Pressing me harder against her, I felt her body give, and I slipped just inside.

Her gasp sounded in unison with my groan as I surged forward. A tiny twinge of pain crossed her face and I stilled. 

“Hermione?”

“It’s fine.” She blinked up at me and rolled her hips, pulling me deeper into her. 

I held still and she groaned in frustration, but I refused to move. She was so fucking tight and I didn’t want to hurt her. 

“Lucius, don’t stop.” 

She tried to lift her hips but the weight of my body made it impossible. 

“Hermione.” I ran my thumb over her cheek. “I won’t stop, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her eyes were wide as she stared up at me; my words had surprised her. But I’d hurt her too much already in her life and I wouldn’t do it again.

“You didn’t hurt me,” she assured me. “You’re... bigger than I expected, that’s all.”

I didn’t allow my ego to make me smug. And my earlier jealousy was pointless; any other man she’d been with hadn’t filled her like I was. And this was my chance to prove I was much more than the persona I allowed the public to see. 

“I never want to hurt you.” I kissed her, sucking on her bottom lip, and threading my fingers through her hair. “I only ever want to give you pleasure.”

She moved her hands over my shoulders and down my back, gripping my arse and pulling me deeper.

“Then show me.” She tilted her hips, drawing me completely inside her, “Move in me. Let me feel you.”

Leaning my forearms beside her shoulders, I lifted off her slightly and began to move, slowly at first, deep, long strokes that made her arch and gasp and dig her fingernails into my skin. 

And taking my time brought a whole new level to the pleasure I was feeling. 

I wanted to be the man she dreamed I was. The man she thought worthy of her time. I didn’t want to disappoint her — and not just in bed. I wanted to give myself completely to her, give her everything she ever desired. I wanted to know her like she knew me. 

And the feeling of this — of  _ her _ — was different. 

She was so beautiful, so wet and warm and soft, and it felt so good to be inside her. Her body moulded to mine perfectly, and the soft, slick heat of her cunt was like heaven around my cock. 

She moved with me, meeting my slow thrusts, our bodies moving rhythmically together as if they’d been made for each other. 

Lifting her head, she kissed my throat, my collarbone, my jaw. Her arms wrapped around my neck and she pulled me against her, her soft breasts pressing against my chest. She found my mouth and the hungry kisses returned. The taste of her sex was still on my tongue and she seemed eager to suck every drop into her own mouth.

It was filthy and brash, and only made me harder. 

“Lucius,” she groaned as I began to move faster, harder, deeper, my pelvis hitting her clit with every thrust. 

Her moans grew louder, her sighs turning into sharp gasps, her hands gripping and pulling at my skin and hair. Her kisses became urgent, frantic, and I felt the tension build in her. Her thighs tightened against my sides, her hips lifting and bucking. She stared up at me, her eyes never closing, her pleading cry loud as her body clenched around me.

I kept moving slowly through her, prolonging her pleasure for every possible second. 

“Beautiful,” I murmured and kissed her, still astounded that she was letting me drive what we were doing. 

“Lucius,” she said with a heavy exhale. “That was...  _ oh _ , gods!”

I lifted myself onto my hands, and looked down to where we were joined. I was still moving, siding in and out of her, my skin slick and wet from her cunt. I cursed at the sight.

“Fuck! Look how wet you are.”

She reached down and touched her fingers to me, her eyes widening when she felt how hard I was. 

“Lucius...” 

“It’s all for you, darling.” My hand joined hers, touching my fingers to her clit. She jerked beneath me and her hand surrounded my wrist. 

“Wait,” she groaned. “I can’t... I won’t...”

“You won’t what?” I pushed into her, holding my hips against her, “You won’t come again?”

She nodded, and I shook my head. 

“Oh, darling.” I began rubbing her clit. “You will come again, and it won’t be the last time tonight.”

I kissed her once more then rolled back into sit on my heels. I wanted to watch myself between her thighs, wanted see the clench around me when her third orgasm rolled over her. 

Moving in hard, sharp thrusts, I flicked my thumb quickly over her clit. I knew she would be sensitive, knew this one would be over in just minutes, but I wanted her to fall hard and fast.

And I got what I wanted. 

Her thighs trembled, her skin flushed, and her cunt began to pulse rhythmically around me. She reached once more for my wrist and tore it away from her body, a sharp cry accompanied her rough treatment of me. 

I watched her body clench and relax repeatedly, felt a rush of wet heat spread across my cock then drip from her body. 

My jaw almost dropped open.  _ Did she just...? _

I glanced up at her and she was a vision. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her chest rising and falling quickly, her wild curls a crazy, jumbled mess on the pillow. 

“Hermione?”

She opened her eyes, and a satisfied smile spread across her face.

“Holy shit,” she said breathlessly. “What are you doing to me?”

I chuckled and slowly withdrew from her. My body protested, my cock straining and bobbing, desperate to return to her warmth. 

“Can you turn over for me?” 

She glanced down to where I was still hard, and groaned as she slowly rolled over, lifting herself heavily onto all fours. “How are you still doing this?”

“You got one gift wrong, darling.” I gripped her hip with one hand, my cock with the other, and guided myself inside her. “I’ve never needed a stamina potion in my life.”

I pulled her to her knees and her head dropped back to rest on my shoulder. Her legs were spread wide and my cock was pressed fully inside her. Reaching around to trace down her belly to her core, my fingers slipped across the delicious wetness that lingered from her previous orgasm. She shuddered, and I knew her body would be too sore to take me again after this. 

But this was my fantasy. To have a woman any way but quietly... and I never dreamed it possible.

Kissing her shoulder, I dragged my lips along the side of her throat to the shell of her ear. “I want to hear you, darling. I want to hear my name when you come.”

She nodded and began to move, sliding slowly up and down, and I had to close my eyes. 

In one night she had claimed me. This tiny woman had more power over me than the Dark Lord himself. She was a decadent delight I would never give up. She had given me so much already and was still doing so, allowing me to take what I wanted despite this having been her fantasy.

“Never... like... this...” she stuttered and rode me harder. “No one...”

Her words dropped away and a possessiveness ignited a fire inside me. No one would be like this with her ever again. Only I would have her like this. My name would be the only one she would ever scream in pleasure. 

Tightening my arm around her, I stopped her movements. 

“Please,” she begged and tried to grind against me. 

“Me, Hermione,” I growled into her ear. “Lucius—“ my thumb slid along the sensitive nerves of her clit and pressed down hard “— is the only name you’ll ever scream. For the rest of your life.” 

“Yes,” she gasped as my last shred of control released and I began to drive into her, deep and hard.

Her sounds grew louder; whimpers becoming moans. Moans becoming cries. Cries becoming screams. 

My own grunts joined her cries, and the room was filled with both our voices. Her pleas of  _ don’t stop, _ of  _ oh gods, _ of rambled words and curses, had me barely hanging on. 

And then I felt it. The tightening of her body, the tensing of the tendons in her thighs, the vice-like clench of her dripping cunt around my cock. Her body arched against me, and I held her tightly. And my name became a scream that was loud and untethered as she climaxed. 

My own climax began to shake me. The sharp tingle that had been building at the base of my spine finally broke and I toppled us both forward, landing heavily on top of her. I kept fucking her, almost savagely, my teeth bared against her shoulder, my hands roughly gripping her breasts. She pleaded for me to come and I gave in, driving into her one last time and feeling the euphoric high when I finally released inside her.

Rolling us to the side, I gently cupped her jaw and turned her head to face me. I kissed her softly, slowing the moment down to the quiet calm that was drifting down around us. She relaxed completely against me, her body limp and sated, pliable and sweaty, and the most beautiful thing I had ever felt. 

“Are you okay?” I asked quietly, rubbing my thumb over the mark I had left on her shoulder. 

“Yeah,” she breathed. “That was incredible.”

“Did I live up to your fantasy?” 

“As expected, you surpassed it.”

I kissed her again and felt myself soften inside her. She felt it too and moaned quietly as she shifted and I slipped out of her. With another quiet groan she rolled to face me, smiling lazily. 

“I may have to write a sequel.”

I chuckled and rolled to my back, dragging her to my chest. “I’m happy to assist in any research you might require.”

She curled her body against me and flicked her wrist, the bedcovers coming up to cocoon us. 

“Hmm,” she murmured sleepily and lay her head on my chest. “I think that kind of research might take quite some time.”

I kissed the top of her head and wanted to ask so many questions, but my body was exhausted. I tried to fight the urge to close my eyes and smiled at the thought of the stamina potion on my shelf. 

Just as sleep began to consume me, another thought occurred to me; I didn’t take any precautions. I didn’t even think to, I was so lost in the moment. I needed to ask her if she had, but her breathing was already even and slow, sleep finding her as quickly as it was me. 

I began to relax and an image in my mind pulled me into sleep. 

Hermione with a blonde, curly-haired baby in her arms.

And all thoughts of precautions didn’t matter.


	25. December 25

* * *

**DECEMBER 25**

* * *

I woke with a feeling of contentment I hadn’t known in years. I was  warm and relaxed, and felt completely calm. 

Hermione stirred beside me, her body still pressed against mine. She was tiny, almost too delicate and fine, but after last night, I knew she was anything but. She’d been a complete surprise. 

However, I was concerned I had ruined her fantasy. 

What had happened was nothing like what she had written in her book, and since we’d both fallen asleep almost immediately and I’d not been able to ask, it was my one concern.

“Merry Christmas,” she said sleepily, tilting her head to look up at me. 

“Merry Christmas,” I replied and kissed her. “How are you this morning?”

“I feel like I could sleep for a month.”

“Hmm,” I murmured against her forehead. “I don’t think Jay and Emme slept for a month after their escapade.”

She laughed. “No, they didn’t. But I highly underestimated Jay’s stamina.”

“So… you weren’t disappointed?” I asked nervously.

She frowned and propped herself up on one elbow. “Why would I be disappointed?”

“Your fantasy wasn’t me taking over.”

“Lucius.” She brushed her fingers across my cheek. “You made my fantasy so much better. I wrote what I thought I wanted, but you gave me more than I could have ever imagined.”

“I didn’t want to take anything from you,” I said. “We can play it exactly—”

“No, what you did was  _ exactly _ what I wanted.” She frowned and continued. “Men think I’m this delicate flower that needs to be handled with care, but I’m not. I like things rough and hard. I like to play. I like to be touched with hard hands and what you did was perfect. No one has ever been like that with me.”

“And no one else ever will be.”

The words were out before I could stop them. 

She leaned her chin on my chest and grinned. “And why is that, Mr Malfoy?”

“Well…  _ ah… _ ” I stammered while my mind raced for an answer. “You,  _ ah _ , did say the feisty witch got her man and they lived happily ever after.”

“I did say that.” She shifted, pushing the covers back and moved down the bed. “And if this is what happily ever after feels like, I’ll gladly take it.”

I groaned when she took my half-hard cock into her mouth. Her fist curled around the base and she drew a slow circle with her tongue around the tip. I closed my eyes, blocked out all thoughts, and just let myself feel. 

I cursed my stupidity at stopping her from doing this last night. Her mouth was perfect, sucking me slowly, her fist squeezing me with just the right force. She licked a line from the head to my balls, her lips pressing wet kisses across the soft skin. I groaned, and glanced down at her. She was smiling up at me, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief. She licked her lips then ran her tongue in a circle around the very tip. 

My groan was loud when she took me back into her mouth, sliding further and further down until my cock slid into her throat. She held me there for what seemed like an age, before pulling back up and gasping in air. I was like steel already, my body aching with need. My fingers slipped into her hair, pressing into her scalp, and guiding her up and down my length. 

“So good,” I hissed in a rush. “I can’t… fuck! Your mouth… coming…”

I didn’t have time to be horrified at how quickly the clawing ache in my balls had built and threatened to explode, before I was doing just that. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, her tongue lapping at me and catching every drop that spilled. 

“Fuck,” I groaned and reached down and pulled her up to my chest. “You certainly have surprised me, my little stranger. You are my favourite of all the gifts.”

* * *

  
  


The Floo sounded in the Parlour and I glanced at Hermione. Her eyes were wide and she looked as surprised as I was.

We’d laid together for an hour after my Christmas morning wake up, and I had asked my questions, surprised to find it was my daughter-in-law who had been Hermione’s eyes and ears in this charade. Hermione had come up with most of the gifts on her own, but the cologne, the chess set, and the book had been her only hurdles.  The Scoundrel whiskey had been discovered when she went to check on her parents several months earlier, and she overheard me asking about the Turkic Runes in Flourish and Blotts almost a year ago. She had assumed I would definitely appreciate the cigars — no, she couldn’t get me any more — and the other personal gifts she had simply just thought about the things I might like. 

The more salacious gifts were meant to tease, and turn my thoughts to possibilities I hadn’t dared to think. To which I had laughed and told her that her plan had definitely worked. 

And, Hermione had explained, since Katie was now a Malfoy, she was able to adjust the wards to allow her access to the Manor. 

I would have to remember to send Katie some truffles and champagne of her own. 

We’d showered together — another first for me — and she amused me when she shrunk a pair of my pyjama pants to fit her and transfigured a shirt into a hooded jumper. She looked comfortable, so I did the same, which in turn amused her. We then made our way to my den for breakfast; Rupert only too pleased to have  _ Miss Hermione Granger _ in the Manor. 

I then showed her into the Solarium, where we were now, sprawled on a couch and kissing like teenagers. 

But the Floo had startled me; I wasn’t expecting anyone. 

We sat up, putting some distance between us, and then I grinned at the sound of little feet running down the hallway. 

“Pa!” Scorpius’ little voice called. “Santa!”

“Are you ready for this?” I asked and she shrugged. 

“I don’t think we really have a choice.”

“Nee!” Scorpius squealed when he saw her sitting beside me on the couch. “Nee, Santa!”

She held her arms out and he leaped into them just as Draco and Katie appeared in the doorway. 

“Nee!” Scopius told them, clapping his hands. “Pa!”

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today,” I told them. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“We had some time this morning, and Scorp wanted to see his two favourite people,” Katie quipped with a grin. 

“Did Father finally ask you to visit the library?” Draco asked Hermione, with a small frown in Katie’s direction. 

“Kind of,” Hermione answered and hugged Scorpius, nodding eagerly as he babbled to her.

“That was very generous of you, Lucius,” Katie said sweetly, a knowing grin on her face. “Did you find anything interesting, Hermione?” 

“I found many interesting things,” Hermione answered. “And Lucius has been most accommodating to my needs.”

Draco was still frowning, looking between Katie and the two of us on the couch. “His two favourite…” he murmured, then his eyes went wide and he pointed at Hermione. “Why are you in pyjamas?”

“My other attire wasn’t… appropriate… for roaming around the Manor, so your father was kind enough to help me out.”

“It was the least I could do after you sent all those gifts.” I watched my son as he figured out what I had just said. 

“Wait…  _ You’re _ his Secret Santa?”

Hermione nodded, “And he got his final gift last night.” 

“No.” Draco held up his hand and shook his head, the reality of what he was seeing finally making sense. “I don’t want to know… or think about what happened.” He turned to Katie. “And you helped her?” 

“She swore me to secrecy,” Katie said and touched Draco’s jaw. “And you know what happens when you piss her off.”

“So, this is… something?” He waved his finger between us.

I reached over and squeezed her thigh. “It’s definitely something.”

Draco scratched his forehead and still looked confused. “But last night, you were avoiding him.”

“I was,” Hermione agreed. “But it was deliberate. I wanted to confuse him as much as everyone else.” Scorpius squirmed and she let him slide off her lap, watching him race across the room and tap on the glass walls as the snow began to fall. “I don’t hate Christmas, Draco, I’ve just never enjoyed it. My family never really celebrated the day; we were usually skiing in Switzerland.”

“So, it’s just bullshit about your parents?”

“No, I miss them at Christmas, but not because the day makes me miserable, just because they’re not around.”

He nodded slowly then glanced between us, a slow smile crossing his face. “So do I have to call you Mum?”

Hermione laughed, “I’d prefer you didn’t. It’s too weird.”

“That’s not what’s weird,” he muttered. 

“Nee!” Scorpius called. “Snow!”

“I can see,” Hermione said and walked over to him, squatting down to his level and pointing out the window. 

I watched her with my grandson and saw the sweet woman I knew her to be. 

“I don’t care what you think about this, Draco. She is someone I want to know.“

“I don’t have any problems with this, Father. I already know her, and I think you’re in for an interesting ride.”

* * *

  
  


The fire was warm and the snow was still falling — albeit lightly — as it had been most of the day. The sky was becoming darker, the stars were beginning to shine through the breaking clouds.

The champagne had been drunk and the truffles eaten, and now I was curled around Hermione on the soft rug in front of the fire. A light blanket covered our naked bodies, and the warmth of the flames soaked into our skin. 

The whole situation was still so surreal, and having just made quiet love to her, my disbelief only grew. She was a beautiful contradiction; riding me hard and fast on the couch after Draco and Katie had left, then allowing me to cover her body and slowly turn her into a puddle of goo as the day became night. 

“Skiing in Switzerland?” I murmured in her ear.

“Yeah, it was our yearly holiday.” She turned in my arms. “But I’ve not been back since…”

I saw the flinch of pain in her eyes at what had happened and my heart clenched. 

“Well, my darling, it is possible that next Christmas you’ll have your own Secret Santa to give you your every wish.”

“I think I’d like that.”

I brushed her crazy curls from her face and kissed her, rolling her beneath me once more. I smiled down at her; I had eleven months to learn everything about my sweet stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read and commented on this. It started as a crazy idea that I wasn't sure would work, but I'm beyond grateful that everyone has loved it.
> 
> Merry Christmas to you all, and maybe there'll be a sequel next year :)


End file.
